What Might Have Been
by Eyesinthenight102
Summary: AU! Mulan, Aurora, and Phillip were all taken to Storybrooke; ripped from their former lives because of the Evil Queen's curse. Will a princess, a warrior, and a prince ever be able to find love in a land with no happy endings? (AU, Sleeping Warrior and some Philora) Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Reality

**What Might Have Been**

(_**AN:**__ The first bit in a multi-chapter story inspired by a friendly anon prompt on Tumblr! AU in which Mulan, Aurora, and Philip were all affected by Regina's curse and taken to Storybrooke. My updates on this story will be pretty slow, until I get my other fics done and work out a few kinks in the plot. Feel free to 'Read and Review' and to check out some of my other Sleeping Warrior fics. Disclaimer and tumblr link are on my profile page.)_

**Chapter 1: Welcome to Reality**

The lobby of the Storybrooke animal shelter was a lonely and desolate place, especially on a Friday afternoon. The town's sleepy citizens had far more pressing business to attend in preparation for the weekend, and the beautifully designed animal shelter was a ghost town. Empty, save for a single soul forced to haunt its vacated halls.

A dark haired secretary sat behind the beech wood desk by the door, lazily tapping out a rhythm with the end of a pen, while she studied a spreadsheet on her computer.

Bleak light from the computer screen wavered in and out of focus as her azure eyes glazed over for perhaps the millionth time that day. Somewhere above, a light buzzed and flickered sporadically. Boring. Her job was boring.

She stifled a yawn and rubbed at her eyes, groaning, before glancing at the clock. The large spindle-like hands of the clock glared back unsympathetically, as it continued its incessant ticking.

30 more minutes until her shift was up.

She lazily traced the etched letters of her desk's name plate with the edge of a fingernail.

'_Dawn Brierton'_ her slim finger played across the scrawling lettering stamped in the brass. '_Secretary_'.

Dawn returned the nameplate to the corner of her desk and sighed. This was certainly not what she'd expected when she'd signed up for a part-time job at the animal shelter. Initially she had hoped that she'd be able to work with the cats and dogs that so often needed care—She always seemed to have a knack for comforting creatures of all types, and the prospect of devoting her time to the benefit of others greatly pleased her-but when the on-staff vet discovered she had no formal experience, and was prone to fainting at the sight of blood, she had been respectfully turned away.

'_I'm not sure this is the proper position for you' _the round-faced man had said with a gentle pitying smile and a patronizing pat on her shoulder. '_But we do happen to have a need for a front desk manager! Can you work spreadsheets?'_

Need for a steady income to pay her rent and the distant hope that she would someday move up through the ranks had elicited a '_Yes, I'd love to'_. Little did she know, the job was essentially nothing more than sitting in a chair and aimlessly clicking a mouse. She sighed again, deeply.

29 more minutes.

The tinkle of the front door bell nearly startled her as it shattered the monotonous silence and the glaze of the mundane routine. Her eyes flicked up, to see a handsome man leaning casually against her desk.

"Hello, Dr. Whale, how may I help you? Come to adopt a friend today? " Dawn chirruped, the well-rehearsed line flowing past her lips without a thought.

Dr. Whale shook his head. "No, not today. I actually came to see you, Dawn." He flashed a pearly white winsome smile. "I was hoping you might join me for a drink at the Diner tonight…" he trailed off, leaving the implications for a date unstated.

Dawn blinked, surprised. She hadn't even known that anyone in this town took notice of her existence. She was quiet and gentle, she didn't make trouble, and usually kept to herself. She was already impressed the man had managed to remember her name, let alone wanted to _date_ her. A soft flattered flush crept to her cheeks.

"I'd love to." she stammered, after a momentary pause. "But…aren't you dating Miss Blanchard?"

Whale's impeccable smile faltered for a moment, but was quickly recovered and plastered back into place.

"No, Mary-Margaret and I aren't really seeing each other anymore." He brushed off the concern as if it were no more than dust. "We're just very different people." He replied, vaguely.

Dawn weighed his words a moment, chewing her lip. The Doctor's reputation preceded him…and she certainly didn't want to end up like so many of his other wild flings. The surgeon was anything but discreet. _But surely_, she thought, _one drink couldn't hurt_.

"Sure, I'd love to. Is 7 o'clock ok?"


	2. Chapter 2: A Strange Meeting

(_AN: Thanks for reading, guys :) I'm actually a little frustrated at how the next two chapters came out…the scenes felt perfect in my head, but I had issues getting the words to read right on paper. *sigh* Also I think this chapter ended up with a surprising amount of Philora. Oops.)_

**Chapter 2: A Strange Meeting**

Li ran a hand down her dark ebony ponytail as she strode down the gritty streets of Storybrooke's alleyways. The sickly light of the streetlights and the thin crescent moon glinted off the wet pavement. Her dark black boots squelched against the gutter mud and puddles borne from the late afternoon rain as she walked home. It had been a long day.

She'd been battered, bruised, and nearly tazered during today's training. Her muscles were sore, and protested most furiously against any and all movement. The night classes of her secret vice were taking their toll on her fragile body, but she didn't care.

She welcomed the pain. It made her feel whole and alive. Made her feel like some of the honor she'd been stripped of was being earned back, slowly.

The officer silently swore she would claw her way back on to the police force, even if it took months of training, years of night classes, and a thousand more bruises.

To Serve and Protect. That was all she'd ever wanted to do, but one stupid mistake had cost her everything. Her badge, her standing, and even her hopes of being captain of the squad were dashed in the span of a week. In the span of only a few days, she'd been pink-slipped and her dreams had been crushed. Scattered like ashes to the four winds.

She ran a hand over her weary face, relishing in the painful twinge elicited from the movement with a grim chagrin. This was her penitence. This was the price of her redemption.

Her phone vibrated with an insect-like hum, twitching madly in her pocket until she flicked it open, peeping at the screen. A text message emboldened in precisely punctuated capitals blared back.

"WHERE ARE YOU? DINNER WITH THE KINGSLEY'S SON IS TONIGHT. YOU ARE ALREADY A HALF HOUR LATE. YOUR FATHER IS VERY DISAPPOINTED."

Li snorted, rolling her eyes at her mother's distinctive clipped mannerisms. She hissed something unsavory through her teeth. After a long and hard day of Police Academy training, a dinner party with her parents was the _last_ thing she wanted to do, but her mother's stern capitals seemed to hold a demanding quality. Pleading her way out was certainly not an option.

Li Fa grumbled unintelligibly as she re-read the text, eyes hitching on the name 'KINGSLEY'.

The Kingsley's were a small family with large assets. Real-Estate investments and land-grabbing prowess had won Hubert Kingsley and his wife a large sum of money and lands. The old man was a cheery fellow, but despite his dabbling attentions, he had borne only one heir: A boy, Sampson Kingsley, who was by all accounts a young man of incredible potential and winsome charm. Rumor held that he would soon be handed his father's position, status, and riches…possibly even within the year.

Hence her mother's sudden eagerness to introduce her only daughter to the young eligible bachelor.

Mrs. Fa's traditionalistic Chinese ways and penchant for social meddling deeply grated on Li's nerves. She had always hungered for a life that promised adventure, freedom, and the ability to make a difference in the world…but her mother had other plans. The tightlipped old woman would have been far more pleased if her daughter had been born with the passivity to choose a good husband and marry young.

_Fate_, Li mused, _had a strange sense of humor_. She blew out a breath, resigning herself to the prospect of a night with stilted conversation and meaningful glares.

Movement in the shadowed alleyways flickered across her field of vision and her heart skipped a pace. Li was suddenly very aware that she was entirely alone on the deserted, darkened streets. Entirely defenseless. Her weary muscles, still stiff and lethargic, would be no help if she were attacked.

Fleeting thoughts of ne'er-do-wells lurking in the gloom, brandishing knives and glowering with gruel and glinting scowls, tugged at her consciousness.

She spun on her heel, grabbing for her pockets in search of some weaponry. Her fingers gripped something slender in her jacket, and she withdrew it, brandishing the object in an attempt to look menacing.

The tiny BIC ballpoint pen was far less intimidating than she had hoped. She widened her stance, flexing her shoulders and bracing herself for the possibility of attack.

"Show yourself." She snarled; eyes flashing predatorily as she scoured the shifting shades of the night.

Her challenge was answered by the sound of wet gasping. She turned to see the lean form of a woman stooped over, propping herself up with an arm against a gritty brick wall as she vomited up the contents of her belly into the alley.

Li's nose wrinkled in momentary repulsion at the smell and sight. She felt her mouth suddenly turn sour, and she fought against the gag reflex that tightened her throat and made her stomach clench.

The young officer was just about to leave well enough alone—after all she was already in enough trouble for being late as it was- before she heard a broken whimpering. Keening, akin to some wounded animal, caused her to pause in her tracks, brow furrowing and ears pricked at the sound. Wracking sobs shook the girl's thin frame, and she trembled. The girl...she was… _crying?_

Li shifted from foot to foot; momentarily indecisive. This was none of her business. She should have just kept walking.

Impulse strained against logic, wavering her hardened heart with the twang of sympathy. The old saying of her profession flitted through her head: _To Protect and Serve_.

"Er…do you need some help? Are you alright?" Li called cautiously; sliding her pen back into her pocket and approaching the dark-haired girl with an outstretched hand. The reek of alcohol slammed into the officer, assailing her nostrils with the whiskey-scented explanation for the woman's apparent illness and emotional distress. It didn't take much deduction for Li to guess that the dark haired beauty had apparently drunk more than she could handle.

Eyes of azure blue snapped up, pupils dilated and glassy. For a fleeting moment eyes of onyx met eyes of sapphire blue, and the officer was captivated in their depths. Li felt that if she looked hard enough she could surely see straight into the other woman's soul through those eyes of blue, for they were so expressive that every thought seemed to be laid bare. Reflected like warbling images in a crystal pool.

The girl's beauty was undeniable. Tresses of dark chestnut brown fell past her shoulders in a cascade of lightly mussed ringlets. Even her face, pale and blanched from illness, was open and honest. Strange familiarity caressed Li's consciousness with ghostly fingers. She shook the straying thoughts away, trying to focus.

"I-I dunno where I am." The words slid weakly from the drunken woman's lips slurring and blending thickly into one another as she shook her head balefully. "I'm lost. I had a date, but he left. An' I'm drunk."

"I can see that," Li replied, glibly. "What's your name? Where do you live? Maybe I can help escort you…"

Her tact questioning was met with a gagging retch and the slopping of vomit into the gutter at her feet. The officer nimbly jumped back with a muttered curse, barely avoiding getting the bile onto her boots. The dark-haired woman coughed, sputtered, and slumped over.

Moving quickly, Li caught the girl before she hit the ground, folding the limp form up close to her body and draping the young girl's arm over her strong shoulders. She held the young creature up, and was surprised at her lightness. The woman was like the weight of a feather; soft, supple, and downy.

Li couldn't help but notice that- beyond the scent of sweat, salty tears, bar smoke, and vomit—the girl smelled floral and sweet. Earthy and garden-like. Familiar. Like a place far away, and beyond remembering. Safe. Home.

Li shook off the musings of her muddled mind, shouldering the young woman and helping her stagger down the street. "I guess you can stay at my place for the night" she mumbled, half to herself. "I'm sure my parents won't mind." She snorted, knowing that her mother would be undoubtedly livid and cross. She'd never hear the end of it.

"But... what about my date?" the girl mumbled, her legs dragging and nearly tripping over her own two feet.

-x—

Sampson Kingsley sat at the oblong dinner table with his hands in his lap, doing his best not to fidget. The cold stare of Mr. Fa bored into his skull, while his wife-a tiny hunched Chinese woman with keen dark eyes and a pinchy smile- toddled about the kitchen, murmuring to herself in Mandarin.

The young heir glanced at the extravagant timepiece on his wrist. The faceplate was lined in plated gold and crystal, and it glinted in the soft light of the dining room. He'd been waiting almost an hour. Sighing internally, he shifted himself in the diminutive chair, toe tapping with impatience.

This whole arrangement felt foolish.

Sampson knew that his father was only interested in the Fa family because they owned the last piece of land in the southwest corner of town. Their tiny modest homestead was surrounded by large sloping fields and fertile space.

The old tycoon had plans to make the unused lots into a mini mall, and desperately needed the Fa's to sign over their property claims before he had the rights to turn the useless plots into revenue. Thus, he dangled the most tempting bargain he had: a marriage proposal. Hoping to pique their interests and garner their compliance with the joining of their two houses.

"You need damn good bait to catch a smart fish." Hubert had often said.

Sampson grimaced at the thought of being the gilded worm at the end of his father's string.

Truthfully, the young heir had no desire to settle down. He enjoyed his life of adventure far more than the pressing duties his father was grooming him for. The prospect of flaunting himself like a show-pony in hopes of garnering an arranged marital contract rankled his sense of pride and integrity.

This entire situation stunk of dirty dealings and underhandedness to the young Kingsley heir. It was certainly not his cup of tea. _I am not my father's son._ He mused bitterly. _Nor will I ever be._

His patience for his father's dealings was nearly at an end. Sampson Kingsley was just about to excuse himself from the table with some shoddy explanation, begging forgiveness and feigning urgency while sidling down the narrow hall towards the entryway, but he never got the chance.

_**THWAM**_

The door was blasted open, swinging wildly on its hinges, as it was kicked inwards by a booted foot. A tall woman, garbed in dark leather, jeans, and military boots, practically fell across the threshold in a manner most indecorous.

"Mom! I need some help here…" The dark haired woman bellowed, the body of a pale girl in her grasp. A willowy arm was draped across the woman's strong shoulders as she supported the thin frame.

Mrs. Fa rushed to the door, squawking angrily. She brandished a wooden spoon like a sword, flailing wildly as she shrilly hissed obscenities and questions, slipping in and out of her native Chinese tongue.

"I can't right now, Ma….Just tell him that we'll reschedule. No, I need to make sure she's alright. I found her in an alleyway, she's just staying for the night." The tall woman, presumably the daughter, responded to her mother's angry, rapid-fire Chinese questions with frayed patience and concise answers. Sampson could only just barely follow the flow of conversation.

The door was still gaping open, and the chill of the night air was starting to seep into the warm house. The prospect of escape from the night's forced festivities drew the Kingsley boy's attention away from the arguing pair. _Now_, he decided, _would be the perfect time to make his move towards freedom_. He shifted out of the chair, eyes trained on the open doorway.

Striding up to the leather-clad woman, he flashed his most appealing grin, trying his best to exude charm and warmth. He held out a hand.

"My name's Sampson, Sampson Kingsley. Most people call me 'Sam'." He carefully maneuvered himself between mother and daughter, standing with back facing the door, insuring the possibility of a clean and quick getaway.

The dark-haired woman glanced at his outstretched palm skeptically, but didn't shake it. Her arms were already preoccupied with far more precious cargo. She tried to smile back, hiding the obvious distain that wrinkled the bridge of her nose and pulled at the corners of her lips.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Li…my apologies, but it appears that we'll have to reschedule our little…meeting." She said, the words clipped but courteous as she readjusted her grip to prevent her friend from slumping to the ground. The unconscious woman's head lolled back, and she groaned slightly.

Sampson's eyes alighted for the first time on the young incapacitated woman, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was, even in her inebriated state, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Her hair fell in soft rippling tresses about her face, and her skin was fair. Not a single blemish tarnished the alabaster surface of her body, and he wagered that her creamy flesh was soft as silk to the touch. Her neck was graceful and elegant; reminding him of the swans he'd once seen on the wing, their forms silhouetted and beautiful against the cool winter sky. Her collarbone sloped down in a swooping V just below the hollow of her throat, alluringly tantalizing. Eyes of cerulean blue, wild as a summer storm flashed as her eyelashes fluttered in semi-consciousness.

Every part of him was enthralled by her. Something deep inside the man stirred, waking as if from ages of restfulness. In his mind, he mistook it for love. She was all that he wanted. And more.

_She's the most immaculate thing I have ever seen._ Sampson thought, his heart thudding. The patter of the beats sped to a gallop, madly skipping and breaking all semblance of normal tempo. He felt manic, as if he were a mad-man teetering on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump yet terrified of falling.

He mentally shook himself, realizing that Li was studying him hard. Waiting for an answer to her question.

"Uh..yeah. Sure." He blathered, realizing that the words sounded disjointed and most ungracious. His father would be ever so disappointed at his lapse in dignified response. Appearances were everything in the Kingsley household.

He struggled to steady his racing thoughts, swiped a hand over his weary face, and tried to choose his words more carefully.

"We can most certainly reschedule. Your mother was kind enough to give me your cell-phone number, so I'll be in touch. I am most excited to get to know you, Miss Li." His eyes glanced back to the slumped form of the drunken woman, mouth twitching, before he swept out the door with nary a backward glance.


	3. Chapter 3: The Morning After

**Chapter 3: The Morning After**

The world fazed in to smudgy cognizance in time with the pulsing throb behind Dawn's eyes. Light lanced at the corner of her eyelids, eliciting a broken moan and a squinty, narrow-eyed peep at the surrounding room. Her tongue tasted dry, bitter, and coated with bile, as if she'd spent most of the night licking sandpaper and motor oil. The secretary tried to shift herself, but her head rolled sideways on the pillow, causing the room to tilt wildly in a flux of nausea that nearly left her retching on the fine floral coverlet.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Mocked a low and feminine voice, as a wet rag plastered itself on her forehead with a sodden 'thwap'.

"You're gonna want to take it easy…You had quite a night."

Dawn's blue eyes rolled up, pupils sorely straining to bring the bleary world into focus. A garbage can was placed near to the bed, she noted, and based on the tang of bitter bile in her nostrils and throat, she wagered it had been gratuitously used during the night.

"Urgh…what happened?" the secretary mumbled thickly, screwing her face up in regards to the appalling assault of the sun. Her memories of last night's endeavors were foggy swirls of impressions and colors.

"You were inebriated and vomiting on the sidewalk. I carried you home and you slept here for the night." Shrugged the Asian woman sitting by the bedside on a small stool. She wore a red plaid shirt, and dark jeans, with a fastidiously polished police badge hanging proudly from a belt loop at her hip. Dark hair, black as pitch, was pulled up and swept into a high ponytail and held tightly in place by a metallic clasp. Her eyes were dark as onyx, controlled and unreadable. Everything about the woman seemed orderly. Not a single hair out of place.

"Everything hurts." Dawn wrinkled up her nose and massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the throbbing in her skull. It felt like someone had smacked her over the head with a brick.

"Here. Try this." The woman handed her a glass. She took it, cautiously sniffing at the liquid within.

"It's just water and some Alka-seltzer." The dark-haired woman explained, observing her visitor's trepidation. "It'll make you feel better. There's some aspirin downstairs. I can get it if you'd like."

Dawn steeled her nerves, and let the fizzing liquid slide down her throat. It tasted foul mixed with the memories of the whiskey and vomit. She shuddered, and handed the empty glass back to the woman. The secretary shifted on the bed, desperately fighting her body's desire to upend her still roiling stomach.

She wrestled herself into a sitting position, tensing her muscles and clenching her jaw to ignore the wild tilting of her vision. She focused on her breathing, counting slowly in her head to center herself. When the sense of vertigo passed, she glanced up to study the implacable face of her protector.

"Thank you for helping me, Miss…uh…" Dawn realized she had no inkling of the identity of the woman who had saved her. She flushed with embarrassment.

"Most people call me Li."

"Is that Chinese?" Dawn cocked her head curiously to the side.

"No. It's short. For… Magnolia." The officer's voice hitched low as her full name slid past her lips. "My parents named me after the white flowers that grow on the trees back home… they wanted me to be their perfect little delicate flower. I guess they had a stupid sense of humor." Dark eyes glanced down to the floor as she shifted awkwardly with the explanation.

"Oh..." Dawn replied, considering for a moment. " It's pretty…but it doesn't fit you very well."

Li chuckled "Glad to see someone else agrees. I hate it. 'Li' holds more of my heritage, anyways. And it just sounds better."

"My name's Dawn. Dawn Briarton. It's French, I think." the secretary yammered aimlessly, hoping that the small talk would take her mind off the pounding in her head.

"Pretty." Li mumbled. _Far better than 'Magnolia'_ the officer thought cynically to herself.

"Know what the French word for 'Dawn' is?"

"No."

"Aurora."

The word rang in the still air of the room, and seemed to jangle, bell-like, in the young officer's skull. Repeating and repeating with an odd familiarity.

_AuroraAuroraAuroraAuroraAuro ra_

Distant memories of things she didn't understand seemed to stir; but Li could not grasp at them. They whispered like tendrils of smoke through her thoughts… intangible and just out of reach, but ever-present.

She shook her head to clear it.

"Interesting." She mused "Know what the Chinese word for 'Magnolia' is?"

"No."

"It's Mulan."

"Mulan." Dawn rolled the name on her tongue, thoughtfully. It felt good in her mouth. Soft, and warm, as if the name inherently belonged on her lips. "I like that…It fits you better than Magnolia. Would you mind if I called you Mulan?"

A rare smile graced the Asian woman's features. Her lips pulled up crookedly, and genuine happiness danced in her dark eyes. A smile of sharing. A smile between new friends.

"Sure. But I'll have to find a nickname for you too, now." The officer replied, playful teasing mischief sparked brightly in the depths of her dark eyes. "How about 'princess'?"


End file.
